The Heart Knows Its Own Bitterness
by sarkywoman
Summary: McGee and Abby discover the consequences of their actions. Ziva makes her displeasure known. Tony wakes up, but things are never simple. Slash.
1. Finished Once And Fast Asleep

What was it about alcohol that made everything seem so…harmless? Everything seemed like a fine idea and nothing had a downside. A friendly drink with Abby had turned into several, and curious questions about his recently-revealed relationship with Tony had turned into lewd questions about their sex life. From there they went to lewd talk in general and from there…

"This is such a bad idea," McGee gasped between kisses. His fumbling fingers had given up on Abby's corset and settled for stroking her neck and her thighs and…

"Ohhh, McGee, stop over-thinking it," Abby groaned, the slur in her voice showing she was just as intoxicated as him. "Tony loves us. You _know_ he wouldn't mind me borrowing you…"

He continued arguing with her but his objections were entirely verbal. He didn't stop touching her or kissing her and when Abby straddled him, the heat of her body engulfing his sent all of McGee's protests far, far away. Abby's body was a familiar treat, one McGee had not experienced in some time. All those little tricks they knew to please one another had regained novelty value in their time apart and the pleasure was immeasurable, second only to the sensation of pressing Tony down into the mattress and taking him slowly.

Tony was on his mind as orgasm hit and Tony was in his field of vision as orgasm faded. Standing in the doorway staring at them as though they were a particularly grisly crime scene. Because that was what Tony did, bottled up all his reactions and hid them with a joke and a smile. He didn't like people to see how much he hurt. Didn't want to show any weakness.

"Tony..." Abby had noticed his presence and the expression on his face. The look of devastation in those green eyes forced them to stop lying to themselves. Of _course_ Tony was hurt by this. They should never have pretended to believe otherwise.

As if startled out of his stillness by Abby's call, the senior field agent turned and fled. McGee tumbled out of the bed and ran after him, but wouldn't chase beyond the front door of his apartment in his naked state. He called out, but Tony didn't even slow down. Tim swore and slammed the door shut, the world spinning a bit as he went back to his bedroom, where Abby was standing at the window, completely nude. "Abs..."

She turned back to glare at him. "Why didn't you follow him?!"

Typical Abby. Relocating the blame. McGee threw his arms up in frustration then sank onto the bed as a wave of nausea swept over him. "I'm drunk and naked," he reminded his ex-girlfriend.

Instead of answering him, Abby threw open the window. "TONY!" She yelled down at the street, having obviously spotted the older man as he fled the building. "Tony! Please wait! Listen!"

Tim heard the screech of tyres as his boyfriend made a hasty getaway. Now it was Abby's turn to swear as she smacked the windowsill with her palm. She slammed the window shut with such force that McGee winced. Then she grabbed Tim's dressing gown from the radiator and wrapped herself up in it before sitting down beside him on the bed. "What are we going to do?"

McGee was wondering the same thing. It was unlikely he would be able to get a cab at this hour, with the nightclubs all shutting and evicting their patrons into the cold night. But he was too drunk to get behind the wheel. He _had_ to talk to Tony and see if he could fix this before he completely lost the man he loved. "We screwed up, Abby. He'll never forgive me."

"He'll be okay," Abby said confidently, staring at the floor. "Well." She sighed. "He'll do a really good impression of someone who's okay. Damn it!" She slapped herself hard enough to make McGee flinch.

Tim reached out and grabbed her wrist, worried she might hit herself again. "Abby, don't. Please."

"But it's _my_ fault, McGee!" she cried. "I've broken up the sweetest gay couple I know!"

"We're _not_ broken up," he snapped. He couldn't handle the thought that Tony might not forgive him. He could voice the idea out loud, but he couldn't believe it. "And it's not your fault. I should have said no."

"But you did say no!" Abby wailed, looking about ready to pull out her black pigtails. "You said no and I didn't listen!"

"I didn't stop you, did I?" McGee argued, a headache beginning to form. "We both know I could have stopped you if I chose to."

"Then why didn't you?" Abby said, her eyes watering as though she was about to cry.

"I guess... I got carried away," McGee said, running the past hour through his fogged mind. "We both did."

"He'll understand that, right?" Abby asked, almost pleading with McGee to tell her what she wanted to hear. "He'll know it didn't mean anything, it was just..."

"Just _what_, Abby?" Tim snapped. "Just the man who claims to love him having sex with an ex-girlfriend? Yeah, I can't imagine him having a problem with our innocent games." He knew sarcasm wouldn't help, but he had no idea what would at this stage.

Abby buried her head in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees. "God, Tim, we screwed up. We screwed up so bad." Suddenly she sat bolt upright, struck with an idea. "Phone him! And keep phoning until he answers!"

McGee scrambled for his cell-phone and held down number one to speed-dial Tony. It rang and rang unanswered until it went to voice mail. McGee growled at the cheerful message. _Hey, this is NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, leave a message..._ He hung up without leaving a message and tried again. Once more it rang until voice mail kicked in. When Tim tried a third time, it went straight to voicemail. He threw his phone at the floor in frustration. "He's switched it off."

"Well he has a right to be angry," Abby said quietly, her mascara beginning to run. "I just hope he's okay."

McGee didn't answer that. He knew Tony better than Abby did. He knew what it had taken for the older agent to commit to him, to open up to him and to admit there was love between them.

And Tim was certain that this betrayal would be shattering for his lover.

*

Tony's car roared down the dark and quiet roads as his mind stayed still, stuck on one image. Abby riding Tim. Abby on his Probie. And let's face it, McGee wasn't exactly crying out for help. He'd been happy to have her there. They'd got to that point together, as a team. Was it the first time? Had it been happening since Tony first agreed to be more than McGee's senior agent?

He held the steering wheel with one hand as he scrubbed at his eyes with the other. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of making him cry. He was a grown man damn it! It was the open window, the wind whipping at his face, that was the source of his watering eyes, the reason he couldn't see the road clearly.

The shrill tone of his phone made him jump and he fumbled for it in the glove compartment, blinking tears away until he could read the screen. _'Probie'_ Angrily he shoved the phone back into the little storage space and slammed it shut, taking a corner sharply.

What the hell was so wrong with him that he wasn't enough for Tim? Since day one Tony had worked so hard to make this the one relationship of his life that would actually last. He'd told McGee his secrets and fears, he'd listened to enough geek-speak to make his brain bleed while keeping sports-talk to an absolute minimum, he'd spread his legs and done whatever he could think of to make him happy. Occasionally the old habits kicked back in and he'd call him a name or make a teasing comment, but Probie had always said that was okay and he knew Tony was trying. Apparently that wasn't enough to compare to the perfect princess of darkness.

The phone had stopped ringing, but not for long. The next time the ringtone filled the car, Tony told it to "Fuck off!" It wasn't fair. There wasn't anything else he could have done! Maybe it was a goth fetish. Or maybe he just wasn't smart enough. Maybe, maybe, maybe.... there were so many maybes. Tony was used to them, used to never being enough. He'd been stupidly optimistic, hoping that McGee might be an exception to the rule. It was like he never learned.

Furiously rubbing at his eyes now, Tony was only succeeding in smearing the tears all over his face. Twenty/Ten vision was meaningless when the world was a teary blur and the first indication that he should pull over was a bright flash of headlights that sent him veering blindly to the left. There was a smashing sound and he smacked his head into the window. A brief moment of disorientation, weightlessness...

He'd been driving along the hilltop road...

There was only time for a short shock of panic before the car hit the ground.

*

The sandpaper slid along the wood slowly under Jethro Gibbs' patient hands. His boat was treated to the tenderness that few people suspected he possessed. He knew his boat would never use it against him. His boat would never make assumptions or demands. Gibbs could be a very patient man, but he had yet to find someone who could mirror that patience. Until he did, he had the boat to spend his evenings with.

His quiet solitude was rudely interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Sighing as he put the sandpaper to one side, he picked up his phone from the scarred woodwork table. He didn't recognise the number, so he answered in his usual way.

"Gibbs."

"Jethro Gibbs?" asked a male voice.

"That's what I said," he grumbled. "Who is this?" It had better be important. He'd had a tough day and hadn't even got round to starting his bourbon yet.

"My name is Doctor Lewis Williamson from Bethesda Hospital. I'm afraid there has been an accident. Not a lethal one, but still serious. You are listed as the next of kin for Anthony DiNozzo?"

"Tony," Gibbs breathed, all annoyance at the interruption forgotten. "What happened?"

"It appears he had a car accident," the doctor replied. "His injuries are bad but he's been very lucky to survive in such a stable condition. We predict he'll be conscious again within the next few hours, though we have some minor concerns about possible head trauma. I really recommend you visit the hospital, Mr Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs," he corrected. "And the man you're caring for is Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, NCIS. Take care of him. I'm on my way."

During the drive he got on the phone and used his NCIS muscles to get information about the accident involving Tony's car. According to the LEOs, it was a shock that the driver had survived. The car was a total wreck, had apparently flown off the road at some speed and taken a metal barrier with it. The vehicle had apparently been moving at enough speed to make contact with the hillside only once before its final landing on the street below. Gibbs informed them that the injured driver was a federal agent, one of his own. There must have been some telltale emotion in his voice because they promised quickly and sincerely to forward everything to him.

Jethro realised as he pulled up at the hospital that he really ought to inform McGee. His two male agents had been seeing one another for a few months now, a relationship that started when Gibbs was in Mexico. If Tony was badly hurt, McGee really needed to be told.

But Gibbs wasn't going to make a phone-call as he entered the hospital and he wouldn't delay checking on Tony. It made more sense to phone McGee once he had a full understanding of the situation anyway. DiNozzo must have been on his way to visit the younger agent, but why the hell was he driving so fast? Tony was usually the safest driver, more cautious than Gibbs and Ziva but not overly cautious like McGee. Gibbs' famous gut was churning, but that could have been a side-effect of yet another DiNozzo hospitalisation. God knows what the kid's medical history records looked like these days.

Oh, he knew Tony wasn't a kid anymore, and had never been _his_ kid to begin with. But his team were his adopted family and they all knew it. All of them strays, needing support and validation. They all needed someone to imply that they weren't as bad as people said, that they weren't as weak or worthless. Gibbs tried his best to do that for them. His own needs were simpler. He just wanted to do right by them. And when he found Tony's room, saw the younger agent hooked up to monitors and breathing through a tube...

Jethro head-slapped himself. It was a damn car accident, nothing he could have done. Tony hadn't been shot, stabbed, infected or targeted by an assassin. There was no way Gibbs could have prevented this. Though Tony _had_ been working very hard, had been tired lately, perhaps the exhaustion had affected his judgement and...

Gibbs slapped himself again and entered the room, showing his badge and introducing himself to the doctor and nurse attending to Tony. The doctor reached out his hand. "Doctor Williamson. As you can see, poor Agent DiNozzo has been rather battered, but there's no doubt he'll live. I've just been in touch with the young man's doctor, I believe he is also the main physician at your agency?"

"You called Ducky?" Gibbs asked, the news drawing his attention away from Tony's pale face for a moment.

"Uh, Doctor Mallard," the doctor replied, waiting for Gibbs' nod of recognition before continuing. "I required clarification on some points in Agent DiNozzo's extensive medical record."

_Extensive_. Gibbs sighed at the verbal confirmation that his senior field agent suffered more than the average person. For all the faith Tony placed in him, Gibbs had failed to protect him on an ever-increasing number of occasions. "Tony seems to have a damn bullseye on his back half the time," he grumbled. "Did you get everything you needed to know?"

"Yes and an abbreviated account of local history. Despite the late hour Doctor Mallard has insisted on visiting Agent DiNozzo."

"He must be worried," Gibbs mused, his blue eyes fixed again on the unconscious agent in the bed.

The doctor nodded, "Yes, for a personal visit at this time."

Gibbs snorted. "No, I mean if he abbreviated his account of local history." He turned back to the bemused doctor while the nurse ran her checks and tests. "What injuries has he sustained?"

"Minor lacerations all over a few major cuts on his arm from the windscreen glass," the doctor said, obviously deciding to start small. "They've been stitched up and should heal nicely with minimal scarring. Broken wrist..." he trailed off when he saw Gibbs wince. "But it should mend up sufficiently and is unlikely to damage his use of a firearm. Broken ribs, we assume from impact with the steering wheel. Those have been bandaged and should fix themselves..."

"I'm hearing a lot of 'should's, doctor." Gibbs fixed the man with a glare.

"That's because I don't want to oversimplify the recovery process and give you an absolute certainty when there is always a fraction of possibility for complications," the doctor said, not backing down. The white-coated man turned back to Tony, continuing a catalogue of injuries. "Minute fracture in his thigh bone but that _should_ have healed by the time he's on his feet again. It's the head injury that's our major concern."

"Head injury?" Gibbs repeated, feeling a sudden sickness. But he reminded himself that doctors were always worried about even the most minor of head wounds.

The doctor moved over to the bed and began touching around Tony's scalp very gently. "We've just got the x-rays back and we're waiting to get some CAT scans. There were two points of impact, I think he must have hit his head twice in the crash. Both are quite bad fractures and the cuts required stitches. We tried to cut as little of his hair as necessary. There's one point of impact around the back here..." the doctor's fingers moved between Tony's head and the pillow, where Gibbs couldn't see. "And the other is smaller, here..." He brought his hand over to the right side of Tony's head and as Gibbs moved around that side of the bed, he saw the shaven patch and the neat line of wire stitching.

He sighed deeply. "Damn it, DiNozzo," he whispered. He took a deep breath and asked the doctor if there were any further problems.

"Our only real concern at this point is the potential for brain-damage," the doctor said, not mincing his words. "We'll know more once he's had the scan. They're prepping the equipment now and we'll have him taken down there soon. All his other injuries have been dealt with and just require time to heal."

"Are the head wounds responsible for his unconsciousness?" Gibbs asked. Tony ought to be full of hyperactive life. It was unnatural to see him so pale and still.

The doctor nodded. "We believe so. The paramedics who brought him in reported no signs of consciousness. Again, we'll know more after the scans. Or if he wakes up of his own accord, of course." The man did seem genuinely apologetic that he couldn't say more.

Gibbs brought a chair from the corner of the room and dragged it over to Tony's bedside. "Well I'm going to sit here until you lot whisk him off for his scans."

He'd expected a protest, but the doctor just nodded as the nurse departed with her notes. "Of course. May I ask what your relation is to Agent DiNozzo? His records just say 'Boss', but it's clearly more than that."

Jethro raised an eyebrow at the doctor. "I am his team leader." He hesitated, and then said, "But we're not exactly a conventional team. Tony's like a son to me. We'd all be devastated if we lost him."

"That won't happen," the doctor said firmly, shaking his head. Gibbs smiled at that. He'd expected 'it shouldn't happen'.

"Thanks doc."

The doctor nodded and left the room, just in time to meet Ducky, judging by the sounds of the Medical Examiner introducing himself out in the corridor. A few moments later Ducky walked in with a thin folder, stopping in his tracks when he saw Tony. "Oh, the poor boy. How's he doing, Jethro? I have a copy of the facts here, but I'd like to hear your account, if you don't mind."

Gibbs told the older man all of what the doctor had told him, as well as the assertion of the local law enforcement that they would provide him with all the details of the accident. "Though I wouldn't mind having one of my own agents check it out while it's fresh," he added. "They'll want to clear the area before the morning for the sake of traffic."

"You think there may have been foul play?" Ducky asked, raising his eyebrows up above his glasses.

"I don't know what to think, Duck," Gibbs said, frustration leaking into his voice. "But I do know that DiNozzo is our most responsible driver, yet the scene evidence suggest he was speeding and possibly swerving out of his own lane before the crash."

"You don't think..." but whatever Ducky wanted to suggest, he didn't seem to be able to voice it.

Luckily Gibbs was able to anticipate. "They tested his blood. No alcohol." He was quietly angry that Ducky would even imply it. "He's been happy lately, but tired. Overworking himself to make sure he doesn't let his little love affair interfere with his abilities as a senior field agent."

"I'm assuming Timothy isn't aware of the accident?" Ducky asked curiously.

"How do you know?" Gibbs asked, though the answer was clear.

"He would be sitting in your seat," Ducky replied with a sad smile. "Why haven't you called him, Jethro?"

"I'm sitting with Tony," Gibbs said, making his excuse. Truthfully, even though he was well-practised at bad news, he didn't feel quite ready to tell McGee about this. Not when the bullpen had been so happy lately. They hadn't had such a positive working environment since Kate was alive. But now that DiNozzo and McGee were an item, the banter and teasing had taken a softer route. Ziva felt less like she was excluded now that the closeness between her two team-mates was of a different nature. Abby was constantly squealing about cute they were. Ducky, well, he had just responded to the development with a knowing smile then carried on as usual. Palmer seemed a little awkward with it, but not hostile. He was friends with Tony, so it was to be expected that the news might throw him off-balance a bit. Just like tonight's news would throw them all off. Gibbs didn't want to set that ball rolling.

"It's not like you to be a coward," Ducky said, his voice full of disappointment. "I can stay with Tony while you phone everyone. They'll be livid if you wait until morning. Mr Palmer knows already, as I had him look after my mother for me." Ducky sighed. "He really is very worried for poor Anthony. I had promised him good news, but I suppose that was optimistic of me."

"I'll call Ziva and ask her to head to the scene of the accident," Gibbs decided. "Once she has sketches and details of the evidence I can call her here and explain the situation. I'll call McGee. Abby can wait until morning. It's too damn early to listen to her sob her heart out. I'll let her sleep." He couldn't bear the thought of her running down these corridors crying. She was so emotional and seeing Tony like this would really upset her. Maybe Tony would be awake by sunrise and Gibbs wouldn't have to break her heart like he was about to break McGee's.

"Don't forget to call Director Sheppard," Ducky reminded him. "I doubt the team will be working for a few days."

"Yeah, right. Thanks Ducky." Gibbs climbed out of his seat and prepared to leave, but hesitated in the doorway. "You know, it's just like DiNozzo to do something like this to get back at me for being in that coma."

Ducky chuckled. "Yes. Well luckily he's likely to come out of this far more intact than you did."

"You think I'd joke if I didn't know that?" Gibbs replied with a small smile of his own as he left the room.

He called Ziva first. Because it was easier. She wasn't happy at being woken up at half-past four in the morning, nor was she pleased by Gibbs' vagueness about why she was being sent out to examine the scene of a car crash. But she trusted him and after some complaining she confirmed she would set out a.s.a.p.

Next up, Gibbs phoned Jenny. She sounded sleepy, and images of their past floated through his mind at the sound of her drowsy voice. "Jen, it's Jethro."

"Mm." She yawned loudly. "Jethro? It's..." a pause while she probably squinted at her bedside clock. "...four-thirty a.m. It had better be important. You're not even working today."

"DiNozzo's in hospital. Car accident."

"Oh my god." Her voice was substantially more alert now. "How is he?"

"Hasn't regained consciousness yet. They've stitched him up, bandaged him and they're gonna run some scans."

"Oh god... Do you want me to drop by?"

"No," he said, because the question wasn't really about what he wanted. "It's gonna be crowded enough as it is. Ducky and Palmer know. I'm keeping Abby in the dark until morning. Ziva's checking in with the LEOs handling the scene and I'm going to tell her afterwards. McGee's..."

He was interrupted. "Jethro. You're not thinking clearly. I can understand that, I know how dear your team are to you. But you should have told Ziva over the phone."

"When she phones me I'll tell her to meet me here. I didn't want to worry her when she has a job to do."

"Ziva doesn't worry," came Jenny's response. "But she does notice things. Things like the wreckage of her _friend's_ car. You're sending her to look at it and you don't think she'll recognise it was DiNozzo's?"

"Damn it. You're right." How the hell had he not realised that? Tony's health was worrying him more than he realised, obviously. "Well I guess when she phones me she'll be a little pissed. I can handle that."

He heard Jenny sigh then say, "Just because Ziva is strong doesn't mean you should let her get hurt, Jethro."

"What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?!" Gibbs snapped. "You think I wouldn't die to protect my people? You said it yourself, Ziva doesn't worry and she's strong. She'll put two and two together but she won't let it get in her way. I've got more important things to worry about."

"McGee," the Director said quietly. "Does he know?"

"I'm going to phone him as soon as our conversation's over."

"Then it's over," Jenny replied, before the line went dead.

Gibbs spared a moment to marvel at the woman he had been speaking to, then called McGee before he could find another excuse not to.

"Boss?" the voice of his technology expert sounded hoarse. "Everything okay?"

"No, McGee, it's not. How soon can you get to Bethesda Hospital?"

"Uh, boss, I'm not really fit for work," the agent replied. "I've had a few drinks. It _was_ supposed to be our day off." McGee sounded unusually surly, but that was probably the alcohol.

"I know. This isn't work. It's personal. I'll come and pick you up. Have some coffee and make sure you're decent for when I get there." Gibbs hung up his phone. He went inside to tell Ducky that he was off to pick up McGee, patted DiNozzo's cheek, then went out to his car.

The journey back was going to be extremely awkward.

*


	2. Forgetful Of Highways Rough

"Maybe he's sick?"

McGee rolled his eyes, then wished he hadn't. He was currently half-drunk and half-hungover, which wasn't the way the recovery process was supposed to go. He took another sip of his tea before answering the Goth pacing his floor. "If Gibbs was sick and in hospital, he wouldn't be on his way to pick me up."

Abby nodded and continued pacing, agitated. "You're sure he said it was personal?"

Tim nodded slightly, still cautious of moving his head too much out of fear of dizziness or nausea. He had overdone it last night, on so many levels. He would never, _ever_ have betrayed Tony if he was sober. What he had with Abby wasn't worth it. They were friends, good friends. For a while he had been happy when they had dated, but Abby had even more commitment issues than Tony and eventually her cold shoulder had put barriers between them. They had played around together since, but never while McGee was seeing someone else. He felt like such an asshole.

"Maybe he was just saying it to lure me into work," the field agent said with a shrug. "I hope not, though. I have to sort things out with Tony."

"Look on the bright side," Abby said, approaching his side and patting him on the shoulder. "At least if it is work you'll have a chance to talk to Tony and you won't be stuck leaving messages on his answering machine."

"What if Tony skips work? Takes time off or something?"

Abby arched an eyebrow at him. "Tony DiNozzo? Skip work? You do _know_ your boyfriend, right?"

Tim sighed. "Yeah, I do. That's why I'm so worried. He _trusted_ me, Abby. He sort of trusts all of us, but I'm the first person he's really trusted with...with his heart. I'm worried that this could leave him hurting for a long time. I was supposed to show him that it was okay to let people in, but I might have just done the exact kind of damage that he's been shielding himself from all these years."

"Timmy, Timmy, breathe." Abby provided an example, breathing in deeply and moving her hands up and down in time with her breaths.

McGee pushed away his teacup so that there was room for him to rest his arms on the table and press his face down against them. If anyone else had done this he knew he would be judgemental and self-righteous about it. He had never thought himself capable of something so hurtful. A cutting comment, a harsh prank, those things were just about within his limits. He had been cheated on before and knew how much it stung, how much it made you doubt yourself. He didn't like to think about Tony feeling that way, especially because of him.

A knock on the door made him raise his head slightly. Abby patted him reassuringly on the back. "That'll be Papa Bear. I'll get it."

McGee rubbed his face as she bounced away and tried to look like he hadn't been drinking all night, having sex with Abby and then trying not to cry about hurting the person he was supposed to be having sex with. Even with Gibbs' investigative skills, Tim thought he might be safe. That was one hell of a story to guess from a man's facial expression.

"Hey Gibbs," Abby said cheerily as she opened the door. McGee envied her ability to be bright and bubbly at a time like this. Tony could do the same thing, don a mask and act like the world was full of opportunities. "So what's going on?"

"Abby," Gibbs said by way of greeting, for once not sounding happy to see her as he stepped into the apartment. "I didn't know you were here."

"Me and Tim were just hanging," she said with a nonchalant shrug.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at that. She hadn't sounded so convincing that time. "Well since you're here, I suppose I should tell you both together. Sit down, Abs."

She shook her head, pigtails flailing around her head. "No, I'm good."

"Abby, _sit_."

The Goth's smile vanished and she walked over to where McGee was hunched over his computer desk, sitting down on the floor beside him with her legs crossed. Gibbs was wearing a serious look, more so than usual, and it gave Tim the feeling that something was very wrong. "Boss, what's going on?"

The former Marine sighed heavily and ran a hand back through his silver hair. "It's Tony."

McGee suddenly felt a wave of sickness stronger than any he'd known that night. His Tony, oh god, what had he done? Tim couldn't even ask for details because he couldn't make his voice work.

Beside him, Abby exploded into panic. "Tony?! What's happened to him?! Oh god, oh god, oh god, McGee we've killed Tony!" The tears that had only just become dormant woke up again with the extra bad news and flowed down her cheeks. "I knew he'd do something stupid! Oh god, I don't care how much we drank, we should have gone after him!"

She was tugging at her hair and Tim felt too numb to stop her this time. Luckily Gibbs stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "Abs, Abs, shush, what the hell are you talking about?"

"We killed him!" She pretty much shrieked in response. "We never meant to, it was an accident, we were drinking and we got carried away and we never meant to hurt him but he caught us, Gibbs!" Her words were choked by sobs, but McGee could see by the narrowing of their boss' blue eyes that he could hear her perfectly. "He saw us," she whimpered, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. "And he ran off to his car and drove away. We couldn't...couldn't follow him because we were drunk..."

Gibbs let go of her, bringing his strong arms back to his sides. He had clearly decided that she deserved no comforting hug at this point. "He was in a car accident," the man said coldly. "Could have died."

"You mean he didn't?" McGee asked, feeling like he'd just fallen off a cliff but been caught by angels.

"Would that have made things easier for you, McGee?" Gibbs asked in a venomous voice. He was looking at the pair of them as though they were a couple of agent-killing terrorists.

"No!" Tim jumped to his feet, uncaring of the dizziness. "I love Tony! One mistake doesn't change that!"

"Well it's sure as hell changed things for Tony!" Gibbs yelled back. "He hasn't regained consciousness since the crash, he could have brain damage!"

"I'm gonna be sick," Abby whimpered, running off to the bathroom. Neither man made a move to check on her.

"I love him," McGee repeated. "He means the world to me. Getting drunk and fooling around with Abby doesn't make that any less true, it just means I'm an idiot."

"You got that right," Gibbs growled. "I've known DiNozzo nearly six years and I have never seen him as happy as he was with you. How _dare_ you throw that back in his face for a night with the woman you left years ago!"

"I told you," Tim hissed, getting angry, "it was a mistake!"

"And now Tony's paying for it!" Gibbs yelled over the sound of Abby's retching. "He loved you and it's left him unconscious in a hospital bed!"

"Then take me to see him!" McGee shouted back.

"I'm not sure I should," Gibbs replied, quieter than before but still firm and disapproving. "He probably won't want to see you."

"If he's unconscious, he won't have to," Tim said, his voice quaking slightly at the thought of it. It always scared him so much when Tony was out cold. "I need to..." He struggled to get some strength back into his voice. "I need to see what I've done."

"Me too," said Abby, walking unsteadily out of the bathroom, wiping her mouth. "We're responsible for this."

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, you are." He turned away and began to walk towards the door. "You'd better both sit in the back of the car. I don't want to look at either of you."

Abby sniffled a little and reached for McGee's hand to comfort him.

"And if you touch one another, I swear I will shoot you."

Abby snatched her hand back and they followed Gibbs out into the very early morning.

The drive to the hospital was devoid of conversation, mainly because Gibbs replied to every question with either "You'll find out soon enough" or "I am _this_ close to shooting you". Abby cried some more while McGee thought about what he could say when Tony regained consciousness.

Once at Bethesda, Gibbs led the pair through to the room where Tony was recovering. Ducky was still sat with the unconscious younger man, telling him some story about a friend of his who had driven their pedal-bike into a bus and had both arms put in plaster.

"...It was a sight to see him lift a pint glass, I'll tell you," the doctor was chuckling. He glanced up as his friends arrived. "Ah, you see Anthony? I told you Gibbs would bring Timothy along for you. And Abby as well..." the doctor's face fell. "Oh dear, don't cry, sweet girl..." He rose from his seat and went to the Goth, who had fallen apart again at the sight of Tony's battered body. The bruises were nasty, reaching their peak of colour.

"She should cry," Gibbs said casually, his eyes on Tony's body. "This is her and McGee's fault."

"Jethro, how can you say that?!" Ducky snapped.

"Step outside with me and I'll tell you. Abby, you come too. Let's give McGee a minute to examine the consequences of his actions."

"Jethro..." Ducky admonished again.

"_Outside_, Ducky."

The three stepped out of the room. Tim heard the door click shut behind them, but didn't watch them leave. His gaze never left Tony's form. He looked at the bruises and the bandages, then he caught sight of the stitches.

Taking up Ducky's previous seat, McGee leaned down onto the bed, peering closely at the delicate wires threaded through the skin of Tony's head. His stomach was churning, as it always did at this sort of thing, but he owed it to Tony to take a good long look. This was his fault. He didn't doubt that Tony's emotional state had caused the crash.

His fingers were almost touching the cut, but he pulled back. "Tony, I'm so sorry," he said quietly. Saying the words out loud made him even angrier with himself because they were so insufficient. He'd have to do more than say sorry to earn Tony's forgiveness. He had no idea what, but he would have to make amends. Somehow.

Tim leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Tony's still lips.

"You have to wake up, Tony," he said quietly. "Everyone's worried. Besides," he tried to smile, "I've got a lot to make up for. We were doing so well. I never thought I'd be the one to mess this up." McGee sighed. "Just wake up, okay? The forgiveness and the grovelling can come later, just wake up." His hand, which held Tony's, was trembling. "I... I want to see you smile," he confessed. "I don't even care if it's in my direction. You have to wake up. Please." He pressed another kiss to Tony's lips and settled back in the chair to wait. People had car crashes every day. Tony had woken up from far stranger things. Tim just had to wait and plan his apology.

*

Abby thought that Gibbs' reaction, though it wasn't as bad as it could have been, was as bad as it was going to get. She hadn't expected to see Ducky look at her like he was doing at that very moment. His gaze was so cold it made her shiver. She was getting her fair share of disappointed looks that evening. Ducky was always so kind and gentle that his displeasure and disgust hurt even worse than Gibbs', since the former Marine was gruff with most people.

"I thought Tony was your friend," the Medical Examiner said disbelievingly. "How could you do such a thing?"

"We were drunk, Ducky," Abby pleaded. "You think I don't want to go back in time and change it? Even if Tony _wasn't_ hurt I'd feel guilty as hell! We just weren't thinking!"

"Obviously," Gibbs muttered. He turned to Ducky, who was still giving Abby a look usually reserved for despicable criminals. "Has he had those scans yet, Duck?"

The older man nodded with a sigh. "The doctors are getting the results through and examining them now. I've offered my assistance with..."

"GIBBS!"

The three of them flinched at the loud interruption and Gibbs turned away from Abby and Ducky to deal with the irate Mossad liaison marching towards them. Ziva flicked her dark hair over one shoulder. She looked at Abby's tear-streaked face, Ducky's concerned expression, then finally fixed her glare on Gibbs. "Where is Tony?"

Gibbs reached out a hand to her shoulder, more comfort than he'd given Abby since finding out the truth behind what had happened. "Ziva..."

The Israeli woman batted his hand away as though it offended her. "Did you think I would not recognise his car because it was so wrangled?!"

"Mangled," Abby whispered.

"I don't care!" Ziva screamed, frustrated. "The police said he was here. _Why_ was it the _police_ who informed me, Gibbs?!"

"It should have been me," Gibbs nodded.

"It should have been..." Ziva trailed off, her anger slightly mollified by Gibbs' admission. "Yes. It should have. Where is he?"

"He's with McGee," Gibbs said quietly.

"Oh." Ziva bit her lip. "I suppose McGee is a more important visitor." She nodded to herself. "I can wait until he is ready for more visitors." She frowned then. "He is conscious, yes?"

The three of them shook their heads. "No," Ducky said quietly, "Not yet. But the doctors are optimistic."

Gibbs put his hand on her shoulder and this time Ziva let him. "Come on," he said gently, "I'll take you to him and you can tell me about the scene of the accident."

Whenever anyone said the word 'accident' Abby cringed. It made her want to scream that it _wasn't_ an accident, her and McGee had made it happen and they ought to be locked away – separately – until Tony said they could be released.

"I do not want to interrupt McGee's time with him," Ziva said. "I will wait."

"Trust me," Gibbs said, "McGee's had more time with DiNozzo than he deserves. When you've told me about the scene I'll bring you up to speed, but you have to promise not to kill anyone."

Abby shuddered as Gibbs led the Mossad agent off to Tony's room.

"Do you think she'll kill me?" Abby asked Ducky nervously.

The M.E just shrugged as though it was irrelevant then walked off in the direction of Tony's room. His unusual silence was worse than the disappointment and Abby curled up on one of the plastic seats and wept.

*

Another eventful hour passed before Tony awoke. Ducky had the privilege of being sat by his side when consciousness finally arrived. Everyone but Abby had been there moments before, but then Jethro had told Ziva the full story and now he was trying to prevent her from leaving Abigail and Timothy in the same state that Tony was in.

He had been regaling young agent DiNozzo with the story of a friend from his first year at University who claimed to have been abducted by aliens, when Tony murmured his name.

"Ducky?"

Immediately the old doctor was checking his pupils. "Anthony, my dear boy, you've had us all so worried."

"What happened?" the senior field agent sounded tired and dehydrated, but coherent.

"You lost your car, I'm afraid," Ducky said, smiling gently down at him. "It wasn't all that old either, was it?"

"I crashed?" Tony asked, still blinking from the light in the room. "I don't remember that."

"What is the last thing you do remember?" Ducky asked, frowning. They had just been through this with Jethro, he wasn't bloody having it again. At least Tony had recognised him, which meant some long-term memory remained intact.

"Uh..." Tony frowned at the white bedcovers as he thought it over. "I was putting in some late hours..."

"Again..." Ducky said disapprovingly. The boy never got any sleep.

"Yeah..." Tony chuckled. "I gotta keep my edge, Ducky." Then he turned serious again. "I got in the car... Was going to see McGee..." His frown deepened, then he winced as though in pain. "That's all I can remember." Then he gasped. "McGee! I was going to see him! He doesn't know where I am!"

Ducky put a hand on Tony's chest to stop him sitting up. "Easy, easy. He knows you're here."

Tony's lips moved into a pout. "Then why isn't he here?"

"He stepped outside for a moment. He has been sitting faithfully by your bed." Ducky mentally kicked himself for using the word 'faithfully', but the tactlessness was lost on Tony.

"Could you get him for me?" Tony asked pleadingly, using what the others referred to as his 'puppy-dog eyes'.

"Of course," Ducky agreed, rising his aching bones from the chair and wandering out of the room. He closed the door gently behind him and walked down the corridor in the direction of the multilingual swearing.

Gibbs was standing between Ziva and Abby to try and prevent any casualties. McGee was holding a hand to his cheek, which was unusually red.

"Ziva, just calm down. You promised me..."

"Gibbs, they could have _killed_ him! They know that Tony is tremendously insecure yet they smeared their relationship in his face!"

"Rubbed, not smeared," Abby corrected.

"Do you want to die, Abby?!" Ziva cried.

"Tony is awake," Ducky announced to them, turning the scene into a _tableau vivant_. "I am going to fetch a doctor, but in the meantime he has requested Timothy." He was aware he had spoken the young agent's name in a rather displeased tone, but considered it well-deserved.

McGee stopped rubbing his sore cheek and sighed. "Guess it's time to face the music."

"Not necessarily," Ducky said grimly. "Tony appears to have no memory of your disgraceful indiscretion. He claims his last memory is leaving the office."

"He's got amnesia?" Jethro asked, concern filling his voice. After all, he was still only just about recovered from his own memory problems.

"It seems so," Ducky replied. "I don't know the full extent of it, I want to have him examined by his doctor. The man's very competent, I hold him in the highest regard."

"He doesn't remember what we did?" Abby asked from her seat, sounding shocked.

"No," Ducky said. "And I won't be the one to tell him."

"Does he need to know?" McGee asked quietly, wilting a little under the glares of everyone except Abby. "I mean...it might be too stressful for him at this point."

"You damn coward," Gibbs growled. "I should have you pulled from my team."

"Unfortunately..." Ducky wanted to bite his tongue and let Jethro force Timothy to do the right thing, but the 'right' thing to do was not necessarily what was best for Anthony at that moment. "...despite McGee saying that as an excuse for his spinelessness, he may be correct. The human mind can be a very fragile thing. Let me speak with his doctor before we make any foolhardy decisions."

"And know that if Tony gives the words," Ziva pointed at McGee and Abby in turn, "I will make your lives hell."

"What makes you think I haven't been there and back, seeing Tony in that state?" McGee snapped. "I'm going to talk to him and hope the sight of me doesn't trigger a flashback or something."

"Good luck," Abby said, still quiet and withdrawn in the corner. Ducky almost felt sorry for the girl, but thoughts of Tony's stitches reminded him that she deserved to carry the guilt for at least a little while longer.

*

Tony was feeling around himself when McGee arrived. Not in _that_ way. He was checking out the various bumps and bruises he'd got in his car crash. When he sat up the pain in his ribs had almost sent him crashing back down again, but after a few slow, agonising breaths it faded to an acceptable level. That was when he noticed the persistent ache in the upper thigh of his left leg. Prodding it led to another explosion of ow. But he could move the leg, so it couldn't be a break. The same couldn't be said of his right wrist, which he couldn't move at all. A couple of fingers could be wiggled, but not without pain. There was a sort of splint holding the arm in place and there were some worrying bandages around the wrist. He pulled at them and saw the stitches underneath. Owch. He was glad he couldn't remember getting that. Or any of the ugly bruises.

He sighed deeply. Another hospital stay. They should start putting his name on one of the gowns and keeping it in the closet for him. He should at least have a parking space reserved outside. Tony ran a hand through his hair and hissed when his palm snagged on something. Feeling a chill run through him, he began gingerly touching the side of his head. More stitches. That explained the headache. They'd shaved some of his hair too. Damn.

Tony suddenly had a small panic. Stitches and bruises everywhere, he must look terrible! Did he want McGee to see him like that? He looked around for a mirror so that he could judge the damage, but there wasn't a reflective surface to be found. Before he could struggle out of bed and find a restroom with a mirror, McGee entered the room. Tony noticed the redness of his cheek immediately. "What happened to you?" he asked curiously.

Tim raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that my line?" he asked with a small, forced smile. He wandered over and sat in the seat that Ducky had just vacated. "You're the one in a hospital bed."

"Yeah, apparently I've lost the ability to drive," Tony said with a groan. "Still, could have been worse." It could _always_ be worse.

"It really could have," McGee agreed in a slightly shaky voice. "You had me so scared, Tony. You were unconscious for hours. They were doing CAT scans, and..." McGee met his eyes and Tony was worried by the strange expression in them. "You know I love you, right Tony?"

"Sure, Probie," he replied, not hesitating to use the nickname that had ceased to be an insult and had become a pet-name. "I love you too, you know that."

McGee smiled and let out a sigh, as though deeply relieved that a car accident hadn't somehow stopped Tony from loving him. "That's great. I..." he trailed off, leaning in for a kiss instead, which Tony welcomed warmly. The kiss wasn't prolonged, just enough to comfort the two of them. Then McGee was staring down at him again as though the danger wasn't over. "When Gibbs told me there'd been an accident, my mind went to dark places. I was so worried. I was begging you to wake up and smile again."

Tony beamed, showing off his shiny teeth. It was his biggest smile, his 'aren't I the cutest?' grin that he used to endear people to him or piss them off, with no middle ground. It was a 'love me or hate me' smile. Sure enough, it turned McGee's frown upside down, though his eyes were still sad. Then Tony realised there might have been a reason for the lingering misery. Something they weren't telling him.

"Did I hurt anyone else?"

Tim was staring at him but not quite meeting his eyes, like he was looking slightly to the side of...oh. Of course. He was looking at the ugly stitches. Tony fought the urge to cringe. At Tony's anxious question, McGee snapped his eyes back to look at Tony's. "No! Oh, no, Tony, no." Then he frowned. "Actually... I never asked." Tim winced at the admission. "But Ziva should know."

"Ziva? How come?" What was Ziva even doing here? Gibbs was his listed contact, McGee was his boyfriend. He wouldn't expect anyone else to come down here just because he'd been an idiot. Maybe she was there to observe the irony, since he had made so many comments about her driving skills in the past. He liked to think she wouldn't be so cruel, but wouldn't put it past himself to make a crack like that if the roles were reversed, so why should she be too moral about it?

"Gibbs had her checking the scene of the accident, just to make sure," McGee said. There was something in the way he was speaking, the way he was looking away all the time... It was making Tony uneasy.

Before he could question it, Ducky walked in with a doctor that Tony didn't recognise. "Anthony, this is Doctor Williamson. He's been looking after you."

Tony went to wave, belatedly remembering with a wince that he needed to become left-handed. The doctor noticed his pain.

"Be careful of that wrist," Doctor Williamson said, a bit late for Tony's liking. "You've got a broken wrist and a nasty cut. How are you feeling?"

"Like I was in a car crash," Tony replied dryly. He hated this part, the prodding and poking and questions from people who nagged because it was their job, not because they cared.

"Do you want some painkillers?" the doctor offered. "Your body has taken a lot of punishment this morning."

Tony grinned cheekily and cast a glance at Tim. "Not the first time," he said with a wink.

McGee blushed, embarrassed by Tony's lack of inhibitions. The two of them had decided though, back when they'd first embarked on this crazy road together, that they weren't going to hide from anyone. They were strong enough to take everyone's reactions and they had a lot of people supporting them to help. Didn't mean Tim was comfortable with Tony making references to their bedroom experimentation, mind.

Ducky shook his head fondly. "I'm afraid Tony will refuse medication, Doctor Williamson. He's very stubborn."

The doctor smiled slightly at that. "Well, I won't have it said that I'm pushy. As long as Agent DiNozzo realises he can have something for the pain at any point."

"It doesn't hurt that bad," Tony lied with a smile. His head was _killing_ him. "I've worked with worse."

Predictably, his head was the first thing the doctor chose to examine. "I'm afraid you won't be back at work just yet," he said as he shone a light into Tony's eyes. "You have some memory loss. Now, while it's normal to lose the immediate time around the accident, Doctor Mallard says you've lost more than that."

Tony peered past the doctor at Ducky, who was looking grave. "How much?"

Gibbs strode into the room, Ziva and Abby behind him. "Your car was pretty far from the Navy Yard, DiNozzo. If the last thing you remember getting in the vehicle, you've lost a while."

"Oh." Tony didn't like that. Not one bit. Anything could have happened and now it was gone. Still, at least he hadn't lost a whole fifteen years like the bossman. An hour at worst. He'd lost more than that on some wild nights out.

"Tony was worried there might have been someone else in the accident," McGee said, looking up at Ziva. "I never asked, so..."

"No," she said firmly, her arms folded. "Tony swerved to avoid a truck and went over the hillside. I have spoken with the driver."

Tony frowned, the movement making his head ache more. "Why was I avoiding a truck? Someone must have been at fault."

Ziva's jaw clenched for a fraction of a second. The only way Tony ever knew when she was bluffing. It didn't always happen, it depended on her mood. But when he did see that little twitch of the cheek he knew that she was about to be less than truthful. "I assume it was the poor visibility of the area. The police had already messed off most of the scene, so there was little evidence to clarify what happened. I do believe it was an accident though."

Tony smiled. "You mean 'messed up'."

She smiled back. "Thank you."

And if that reaction didn't convince him something was up, the awkward silence of the room would have clued him in. No jokes he made could lighten anyone up, though there were vague attempts at smiles. He didn't doubt they were happy to see he was alright, but there was something they weren't telling him. He was sure of it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked eventually, sick of the facade.

"You mean aside from you being in a hospital bed?" Gibbs asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. Everyone seems really...grr."

"Well it's really early," Abby said with a weak smile. "Plus some of the people here are 'grr' anyway as a matter of habit."

"You expect me to believe everyone looks like someone died because it's early?!" Tony snapped at the Goth woman. He didn't believe that for a second. Did she think he was stupid?

He noticed everyone was staring at him. "What?" He asked nervously. Thinking on what he'd just said, he had to admit he had been a little snappy. "Sorry." He moved to rub at his face with his hand, but a shooting pain reminded him to use his left. "Tired."

"I think Agent DiNozzo needs some rest," Doctor Williamson said diplomatically. "One visitor maximum today."

"McGee," Tony said quickly, looking towards his lover for agreement.

"Sure Tony," Tim said, his smile seeming more genuine by the minute. "I'll stay."

Gibbs patted him on the cheek and told him not to do anything stupid. Ziva took his hand and swore that she was only a phone call away if he needed her, which was strange. Ducky promised to check in on his progress later. Abby tried to hug him, but he struggled away.

"I'm hurt, Abs. You'll make it worse if you squeeze me like Bertie the damn hippo."

She looked slightly upset. Tony had never rejected one of her hugs before. But he _did_ hurt and he wasn't in the mood for Abby's emotional displays. He knew she meant well, but he just didn't want to deal with it.

Once she had left, wishing him well, it was just Tony and McGee left in the room. That was _far_ more relaxing. As Tony settled down on the bed, McGee stroked his hair where the stitches weren't in the way.

"I didn't think I'd be able to do this again," Tim said softly as his gentle fingers soothed Tony's headache.

Tony smiled and closed his eyes. Maybe that's all it was. He'd just frightened everyone with another close-call. No big secret, no cover up, just paranoia from the concussed guy. Yeah, that sounded far more plausible.

He sank into sleep, counting himself lucky not just for seeing another day, but for seeing it with Tim.


End file.
